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A VICAR'S POEMS 



A VICAR'S POEMS 



BY 
GEORGE HILL E|OTTOME 

VICAR OF GRACE CHAPEL 1895 TO I913 



WITH INTRODUCTORY PREFACE BY 

THE RT. REV. DAVID H. GREER, D.D., BISHOP 

OF NEW^ YORK 



NEW YORK 
EDWIN S. GORHAM 

II V^^EST 45TH ST. 
I9I5 






Copyright by 

Edwin S. Gorham 

1915 



MAR 18 1915, 



'Uo / 



PREFACE 

Those who were personally acquainted with 
Mr. Bottome will greatly appreciate and prize 
this little volume of his poems. To others it will 
help to reveal the singular charm of his charac- 
ter. He was a man of profoundly religious spirit, 
with a lyric gift of expression, and both these 
qualities are reflected in his poems. From his 
early college days down almost to the close of 
his life it was his habit from time to time to 
clothe his thoughts in verse. This he did not for 
publication but simply because it was for him 
such a natural thing to do. Some of his poems 
have already found their way into print; but 
even his intimate friends did not know — for he 
was a rarely modest and self-effacing man — how 
many more he had written of equal beauty and 
charm ; and to them this present collection will 
come, not altogether as a surprise, but as the still 
further revelation of one whose personality they 
had learned to love and admire ; and they as 
well as others will be grateful for this little sheaf 
of sonnets which a loving heart has gathered and 
given to the public as a tribute to his memory. 

Davjd H. Greer. 

January, 191 5. 



CONTENTS 



SONNETS. 



The Italian Bootblack 

The Hour and the Day 

Peter's Shadow 

Before Easter , 

The Mount of Vision 

The Holy Communion 

Martin Luther 

Woods in April 

Parting 

At Sea 

Heresy 

To W. M. B. . 

Expectation 

A Query . 

In Memory of Mary 

The Sleep of Day 

Utterance 

To the Rector 

The Quest 

Hope 

After Glow 

Philammon 



Wilt 



POEMS OF THE HIGHER L 



All the World Is Softly Sleeping 

Then and Now 

My Christmas Tree 

Christmas Alone 

Reunion 

The Christmas Night Watch 

Lent 

An Easter Card 

Whitsunday 

A Morning Song 

To W\ A. 

All Saints 

The Answered Prayer 

At a Baptism . 

The Conversion of St. Paul 



IFE. 



PAGE 
13 
14 
15 
16 

17 
18 

19 
20 
22 
23 
24 
35 
26 
27 
2S 
29 
30 
31 
i2 

33 
34 
36 



41 
43 
45 
47 
48 

49 
SO 
51 
Si 

55 
57 
58 
60 
62 
64 



CONTENTS 



POEMS OF COLLEGE YEARS. 



A Vision of Rest 

A Recollection of Florence 

Sunset Lake 

Lilies 

The Deserted Castle 

An Even Song 

Song 

To W. M. B. 

Rest 

Longing . 

Two Pictures 

At Twilight 

Intervale . 

Wandering 

The Voice 

To My Mother 

An Evening Song at Parting 

An Epitaph 

Misunderstood 

Summer and Winter 

A Memory 

Night 

The Old Bell at Chertsey 

Night and Morning 

At the Fireplace 

Triolets 

A Dream 

Farewell . 

Sleighing Song 

A Song 

In the Gloaming 

A Rondeau 

Guarded . 



OTHER J/ ERSES 



A Vicar's Garden 

Eastern Way . 

Sought and Found 

Eagle Park 

To W. B. D. . 

To My Mother 

To Phyllis 

The Christmas Shop Girl 

The Haven 



PAGE 

69 
71 
73 
75 
77 
80 
83 
83 
84 
86 

87 
93 

93 
95 
97 
99 

lOI 

103 
104 
107 
109 
no 
112 
114 

115 
116 
117 
119 
120 
122 
123 
124 
125 



129 

131 
132 

134 
135 
136 

138 
140 



Not dead but living — so ascends our praise, 
No minor strain may creep into our song. 
Elsewhere than here, along God's chosen ways, 
Thy feet run swift to do His loving will. 
Help thou our strivings towards that Holy Hill 
Henceforth thv Home, O tender soul and strong. 



Sonnets 



SONNETS 13 



THE ITALIAN BOOTBLACK. 

What right divine gives me the kingly place, 
O'er him, my youthful subject, bending low? 
Strive as I may, not mine his thoughts to know, 
Only to watch, with what unconscious grace 
(Each flashing gesture tell-tale of his race) 
His eager hands fly swiftly to and fro. 
Soft syllabled his alien accents flow ; 
He lifts his eyes ; at last I see his face. 

No menial soul bows in that gaze to me ; 
Out of such depths, the pallid Florentine 
Saw down to Hell, looked up to Paradise ; 
Lorenzo's orbs are his that darkly shine; 
A nation's history is in these eyes, 
Thy pathos and thy promise, Italy ! 



Permission of The Atlantic Monthly. 



14 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE HOUR AND THE DAY 

The hour of death ; the Day of judgment ; so 
The ancient words fall on the careless ear. 
Yet what a world of difference is here ! 
For death strikes once, and sharp ; its hour we 

know ; 
But who may comprehend the ebb and flow 
Of that Great Day, when all man's works appear 
Weighed in God's balances for joy or fear — 
What mortal mind its measurements may show? 

Because we may not scan infinity, 
Nor scale divine decrees with mete and rod. 
Our hearts beat high ; our trembling spirits pray 
That mercy may with judgment mix, and we, 
In the long progress of that solemn Day, 
Rise to the stature of the sons of God. 



SONNETS 15 



PETER'S SHADOW 

Not ours to idly wonder as we hear 
That ancient story of the earHest day ; 
Christ's chosen one pursues his heahng way 
Amid the throng of earthly woe and fear. 
For who remembers not, as they appear. 
The years of his own life in long array, 
Some soul like his with power God-given to stay 
And strengthen with his shadow, drawing near. 

Mixed with the burden of the general song 
That greets thee now, be this my grateful strain — 
That in the shadow of thy faithful years 
The wandering one has found his way again ; 
How many saddened ones have dried their tears 
How many weak ones, through thy strength been 
strong. 



i6 A VICAR'S POEMS 



BEFORE EASTER 

Lord! how Thy church shall greet Thee when 

the cry 
'The Lord is risen" smites the waiting air ! 
How thick the answering echoes everywhere, 
"Indeed He rises !" Yet, for all that, I 
Fear lest the Day shall pass its hours by, 
And all unanswered be my soul's deep prayer. 
''Wherever else Thou risest, Lord, rise there, 
Within my soul that seeks Thee earnestly." 

My days are full like Martha's busy days. 

Yet Mary's better part is what I seek. 

O, in the multitudinous voice of praise 

At Easter finding access to Thine ear, 

My yearning tremulous accents wilt Thou hear? 

For me, as if alone, O do Thou speak. 



SONNETS 17 



THE MOUNT OF VISION 

Friend ! you and I the mountain-top have won- 
Behind us now the long cross-burdened way. 
All ours the glow of this triumphant Day, 
And in our hearts, the toilsome journey done, 
Thanksgiving to God's ever risen Son 
Transfigured on the Mount while we delay. 
What joy to linger with Him here alway 
While others strive the race that we have run. 

Yet well we Icnow for all this vision sweet 
Cross-burdened still, our life before us lies. 
Gird up the loin ! Press firm the staff again ! 
Forward the call to our obedient feet. 
Downward we go, to where they meet our eyes, 
The visionless hour, the trial, and the pain. 



i8 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE HOLY COMMUNION 

The Sacrament of Unity 

He blessed the bread ; the sacred wine He blessed, 
The while around Him sat His chosen band, 
The little flock, not theirs to understand 
What depths of love those mysteries expressed ! 
They saw in Him of all life's gifts, the best ! 
To Him they were the first fruits God had planned 
(Whose harvest yet shall overspread the land) 
To fill man's empty life and give it rest. 

Here ends the way which patient souls have trod, 

For here, the talisman of unity 

Springs from the answer to a common need. 

Here on God's love humanity may feed. 

And feel in every vein stir rich and free 

The blood-bond of one brotherhood in God. 



SONNETS 19 



MARTIN LUTHER 

Beside the Eastern gate of Paradise, 
Where-through the golden car of morning sped, 
Two seraphs stood and watched with calm mild 

eyes 
The far gleam of the world, purple and red. 
Deep down in the still ether, and one said, 
When comes the day that shall light those in 

gloom ? 
Lo! all the life and love and hope are dead 
As once He lay, who brought them, in the tomb ! 

Nay, said the second. Life can never die, 

Eternal as the Heart of God is Truth. 

And as he spake a spirit floated by. 

And down, far down, swift as a dream of youth, 

Low voices sang, as strains that soft harps stir, 

"It is the soul of the Deliverer !" 



20 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE WOODS IN APRIL 

Friend ! let us seek the silent woods and be 
Imprisoned 'neath their leafy bars, and lie 
Watching the mellow beauty of the sky 
Through its green frame ; the clouds that silently 
Float far above upon the azure sea, 
The mossy crevices where brooklets go 
A-tinkling down in mimic overflow, 
Where like an exhalation, drowsily, 

Rise the soft scents of myrrh and buds of spring 
That mingle in the dreamy air, there may 
We find some quiet spot far from the way, 
By man unfrequented, where we may fling 
All thoughts that fret, aside, and wander there 
Free as the birds that sing in that calm air. 

How strangely still ! No voice but ours shall 

break 
The utter silence of these April groves, 
Unless, mayhap, old Pan shall pipe his loves 
Again to us — again the wide woods make 



SONNETS 21 



A merry holiday, and Dryads take 

Gay wreaths of flowers to bind the master's 

hands, 
(A wilHng prisoner, bound with such sweet 

strands.) 
And with his charmed reed the echoes wake ! 

Rest here, dear friend, and for a while forget 
What lingereth beyond the forest gates : 
The discord of the life without us, waits — 
Let us not seek it, let us tarry yet 
In these fresh walks and avenues of trees. 
Lulled by the music of an April breeze. 



22 A VICAR'S POEMS 



PARTING 

To watch the sunlight gently steal away 

Over the western hills and softly sink, 

'Mid sighing winds, beyond the sunset's brink, 

Yet leaving still some slowly fading ray, 

Doth saddening seem — as if at close of day 

Each beam in sorrow stops a while to drink 

A long, last draught of sweetness — stops to 

think. 
Reluctant still to pass along the way. 

vSo as I said ''Farewell, " the look you cast 
In longing token of regret said ''Stay," 
So tender, yet so full of pain and tears. 
'Tis all that I remember — years have past — 
Each day hope fades — yet still I look away, 
Restful, thine eyes I see, across the years ! 



SOmXETS 23 



AT SEA 

How often have we looked out on the sea 

And wondered dreamily what broad lands lay 
Beyond the narrow rim that seems to be 

Ever between the near and far away. 
'Twill not be long before we joyfully 

Shall look beyond the golden line that binds 
Our sight to nought but wide waves rolling free, 

Tossed to the music of the ocean winds. 

It is to me so sweet a thought to know 

That some time, though the sea is wide and 
deep, 
We all, however far our ships may go. 

Through what dread storms of fate and chance, 

may keep 
Watch for the land that lies beyond the sea. 
The Port that waiteth for thy ship and thee. 



24 A VICAR'S POEMS 



HERESY 

An Unrhymed Sonnet 

This is the truth, he cried, and sharply drew 
A line between him and his erstwhile friend. 
So was the battle set in keen array. 
To either standard flocked the impetuous hosts, 
Forgetful of the common blood that flowed 
In veins that claimed a heavenly parentage, 
While all about a crowd unshephereded 
Beheld the strife and passed with scornful eyes. 

But one there was who saw the conflict grow. 
And yearned to gather all within his fold. 
Yet had He naught to say but one soft word : 
'Tt is my sheep who hear my Voice. They know 
Their Master's face, and follow !" Only this 
Can knit the Household in the bond of Peace. 



SONNETS 25 



TO W. M. B. 

Old Boy, an ocean rolls between us two, 

Who first shall cross it? Shall the New Year 
see 
Thee once again beneath the brighter blue 

Of thine own skies, or shall I traveller be 
And cross the dark blue wastes that lead to thee — 

And breathe old England's air again, and find 
An English welcome waiting, full and free? 

In either case Fate could not be more kind. 

And yet perchance this year and many more 
Shall fade ere we shall see each other's eyes. 

Its close may find us lingering on the shore 
And gazing seaward as its last hour dies. 

Ah well ! Thank God no deeper oceans roll 

Between our loves, dividing soul from soul. 



26 A VICAR'S POEMS 



EXPECTATION 

As one who weary of the day's despite 

Longs for the deep dark hours of shadowy 
sleep ; 

Impatient lingers in the dying light, 

Listening vaguely to the winds that keep 
Perpetual moan, as waves that overleap 

The rockv shores that bind the sfreat sea in, 
Or like the notes of some old song that creep 

Into the throbbing silence faint and thin, 

So wait I for that hour which sundereth 
The life without me from that inner life, 

Patient I wait, as for the shadowy rest 

Of some great love, where to forget the strife 
And pain that linger here were best, 

Whether it cometh now or after death. 



SONNETS 27 



A QUERY 

"Why is Light given him whose way is hid ?" 

What lands He just beyond the sunset glow? 
Why must we toil the dark and gloom amid 

And only trust what we may never know ? 

Some time we fancy that we hear the flow 
Of the wide sea, and list if we may hear 

The summons, lingering while the swift days 
go, 
The voice we've waited for so many a year. 

Ah, well ! we've had our dreams, though into day 
The golden lands with night's dark shadows flee. 
Thank God that we may dream ! and let us be 
Guides to the many who have lost their way. 
Into whose troubled sleep no sweet dreams come, 
All homeless here who never dream of home. 



28 A VICAR'S POEMS 



IN MEMORY OF MARY WILTSE 

Mother to many children, not thine own, 

Over forever thy fond labours here ! 
Fields thy unresting, loving hands have sown, 

Others must reap in harvests glad or sere ; 

Lover of lives, thy pure soul could hold dear 
Lives with dank weeds of sinning overgrown ; 

How shall these miss thee in their hours of 
fear, 
She, had God spared her, she at least had known. 

Yet do we dream that ever thy pure eyes 

Watch o'er thy loved ones ; that thy prayers are 
said 

Still for the falling souls thou badest rise ! 

Still dost thou kneel beside the lone child's bed 1 
Never may one say : Lo ! our friend is dead. 

Thou in God's nursery of Paradise. 



SONNETS 29 



THE SLEEP OF DAY 

Oh, silent hour of midnight ! how thy pall 
Lies over rocky height and lowly grove — 
Lo ! where the day has been, now seem to move 

Naught but the shadows and the rippling fall 

Of yonder meadow brook, where creeps the wall. 
Ancient and ruinous, across the meads- — 
While mournfully the willow through its weeds 

Weeps for the silence hanging over all. 

A few short hours ago, and all was light. 

The water rippled merrily, and trilled 

The birds beneath the willows' loving shade. 

Perchance the day gave place to dreamful night 

Because it needed rest, and so it willed 

That it should sleep a while beneath the glade. 



30 A VICAR'S POEMS 



UTTERANCE 

The wizard hands rise from the smitten keys, 
The last tone dies away. With one acclaim 
The multitude pours forth a master's name. 

He stands unsatisfied. His spirit sees 

Those unrevealed, unuttered mysteries, 

Locked in his breast, until, with heart of flame, 
A perfect instrument shall crown his fame 

With harmonies more wonderful than these. 

He waits the day when deep to deep shall be, 
Artist and instrument, a mutual fire. 

In absolute response, one life, one soul. 
As once He lived. Whose innermost desire 

Gave back to Heaven, like tidal oceans' roll. 
The fulness of the Godhead bodily. 



SONNETS 31 



TO THE RECTOR (W. R. H.) 

We are thy staff, yet 'tis on thee we lean. 
Gathered to-night we greet thy day and thee, 
Bound each to each in one true fealty. 
Seeking such visions as thine eyes have seen. 
For what more helpful path hath ever been, 
Tracking life's upward slope, than thus to be 
Proud of a leadership, whose light shines free 
Amid earth's shadows and its ways between ? 

One work is ours ; to one high call we yield. 
First heard, when to that upper room they came, 
And left it, armed with breastplate, sword and 

shield. 
Those first disciples, owning one high Name, 
To bear His Cross and to His bidding sealed, 
Thrilled with the touch of love's immortal flame. 



32 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE QUEST 

Stay thy bruised feet beyond the world and rest ; 
Its gates swing shut, and only now and then 
The drowsy murmur of the sons of men 
Creeps slowly to us. Yonder is our quest, — 
The open fields. Sweet spaces of the West, 
Deep dreams of unknown seas whose waters meet 
The happy fields, soft trodden by sweet feet, 
vSweet feet that once the world's dark pathways 
pressed. 

These too passed on and heard the wide gates 

swing 
Behind them, noiselessly and strong and deep 
The large air on their faces. Long ago 
They passed as dreamers in a dreamful sleep. 
Thither our feet must lead our wandering — 
Whither ? We know not. Onward ! This we 

know ! 



SONNETS 33 



HOPE 

"If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" 

— Shelley. 

The winds are signalling across the snow, 
The flakes in whirling eddies far are blown 
Aslant white plains and rocky ridges lone, 
Around cold meads that in the summer know 
The fragrance of the clover, and the flow 
Of gentle rivulets, and faint, new mown, 
The incense of the hay (with summer flown) 
High piled by swains in many a rustic row. 

How saddening all would seem ! how cold and 

chill ! 
How ghastly white the pallor of the fields ! 
Did we not know that what we see has been ! 
That wdiat has been must be — that spring must 

still 
The winter follow, that the autumn yields 
Of harvest happiness will yet be seen. 



34 A VICAR'S POEMS 



AFTER-GLOW 



This is the end of day, yet what an end ! 
Look where we will God's glory fills the sky. 
East, west, north, south the flaming angels fly. 
From hill to hill their messages they send ; 
From peak to peak their glowing way they wend. 
What art of man may to the entranced eye 
Fix to his joy, for all eternity, 
A scene where earth and heaven a moment blend ! 

Yet once before within the circling day 
God visited the earth and blessed it so : 
When at the dawn the watchman's weary eyes 
Gleamed with the promise of the glistening skies, 
And thrilled to find the darkness melt away, 
Behold, he cried, it is the morning glow ! 

II 

From light to light, from morn to eventide — 
So rounds the perfect day from sun to sun. 



SONNETS 35 



Yet hath each glow one meaning and 'but one, 
Promise, not retrospect ! The shadows glide 
From out the darkling hills ; and at my side 
The swift hours rush to nightfall one by one. 
Yet well I know their journeys are not run 
Till they in morning light are glorified. 

At evening and at morning, one the song, 
Across the enraptured heavens, the angels sing 
Wrapping the world in light of heaven born. 
I lift my heart, with praises answering 
The sursum corda of the sacred throng ; — 
From light to light ; from eventide to morn. 



3^ A VICAR'S POEMS 



PHILAMMON 

He bids me go ! Behind, the deserts sleep 
Silent, alone beneath a sullen sun. 
My boyhood years have hastened one by one 
Unto their death, and now as they who weep 
The loss of some sweet friend, and ever keep 
Watch where he lies whose earthly life is done, 
So I, these hours whose sands, alas ! are run. 
Those waving fields whose grain I did not reap! 

Till yesterday I knew no world, save these 

Wide solemn vasts, the red sky overhead, 

The long, long days, and when their heat had fled, 

The holy contact with the mysteries 

Of Him my master serves — and now I seem 

Only to waken from a weary dream. 

For there are lands beyond this broad demesne — 
And rolling hills, the ceaseless ebb and flow 
Of mighty rivers, and the glittering show 
And pageantry of cities — it has been 



SONNETS 37 



A weary watch with me. Well, I have seen 
The last sun light these hot sands with its glow. 
For ere the morrow's dawn I seek the low 
Cool meadow-lands and fields of gold and green. 

And oh ! I then shall look upon the sea 

And hear its roll and roar upon the sands, 

And feel its kiss upon my face — but he 

That bids me go, my guide, why does he stay? 

Ah, can it be that I will yet, some day, 

From out that world, sigh for these desert lands? 



Poems of the Higher Life 



THE HIGHER LIFE 41 



ALL THE WORLD LS SOFTLY SLEEPING 

All the world is softly sleeping, 

Calm the night and blest, 
Only Shepherds watch are keeping 

O'er their flocks at rest. 
Happy Shepherds, you have chosen 

Of all ministries the best. 

On your eyes the light of Heaven 

Gleams this Holy night, 
On your ears the angel voices 

Sound their message bright. 
On to Bethlehem, Shepherds, hasten, 

See, adore the wond'rous sight. 

Leave your flock to God's safe guiding; 

One is born to-day, 
Shepherd of all flocks abiding 

In His heavenly way. 
Where the light shall guide you, follow, 

Let no fear your steps delay. 



42 A VICAR'S POEMS 

So they found the lowly manger 

In humility, 
There, before their Lord and Master, 

Bent the reverent knee, 
While the heavens with joy were ringing, 

"In the highest glory be !" 

We may join that angel chorus. 

Nevermore to die. 
While the Christmas light falls o'er us ; 

Ours its melody. 
Singing Holy, Holy, Holy 

Jesus, Saviour, Lord most high. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 43 



THEN AND NOW 

Who see the golden light on high? 
Who hear the startled shepherds' cry? 
They who have shepherds' hearts, and keep 
Watch in the world's night, dark and deep, 
Over God's wandering restless sheep. 
They see the golden light on high, 
They hear the startled s'hepherds' cry. 

Who find in the dark the holy star 
Lead them where Mother and Baby are? 
They who the wise men's trust keep clear. 
Shining within, though without be drear; 
Knowing that somewhere God is near. 
They find in the dark the holy star 
Lead them where Mother and Baby are. 

Where is He born at this late day 
Who once, God's Son, in a manger lay ? 
Ever in hearts kept pure and sweet, 
Lives that follow His blessed feet, 



44 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Souls for the place of His birth made meet ; 
There is He born at this late day, 
Who once, God's Son, in a manger lay. 

What may we bring with prophet and seer, 
Now that the holy time is here? 
Faith that can see the halo light, 
Hope assured of a world made right. 
Love that flames in the wintry night; — 
These may we bring with prophet and seer. 
Now that the holy time is here. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 45 



MY CHRISTMAS TREE 

On Christmas Eve I found my Tree, 
My little tree of odorous pine. 
No costly gifts of worldly show 
Were there to make its boughs aglow — 
'Twas God who made my tree to shine 
With His own gifts for all to see. 

For there He set the star of Love 

Upon the topmost twig to stand. 

And underneath His Hope shone bright, 

As gleamed the skies that Christmas night, 

When suddenly o'er all the land 

Sang holy ones from heaven above. 

And midway like a matchless gem 
The gift of Faith hung clear and sweet. 
My heart leaped up to meet its ray, 
As though I too must take my way 
And follow where the shepherds' feet 
Would find the path to Bethlehem. 



46 A VICAR'S POEMS 

I asked not other gifts than these; 
For as I gazed I could not doubt 
That He, Who made the Feast, had given 
These living gifts to me from heaven. 
My thanks like bubbling springs broke out 
'Bless God for all such Christmas Trees. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 47 



CHRISTMAS ALONE 

Lord! o'er Thy world with holy mirth, 

The Christmas notes are blown ; 
How can I share the joy of earth, 

Or sing my songs alone? 

Lord ! with that other heavenly light 

His eyes Thy vision see ; 
The life that made my life so bright, 

Henceforth belongs to Thee. 

Lord ! on my eyes lay Thou Thy hand. 

Make his new vision mine ; 
So shall we still walk hand in hand, 

He, I, forever Thine. 



48 A VICAR'S POEMS 



REUNION 

As gather we about our Christmas tree, 
So find we there God's costly gifts and dear, 
And in their gleam Heaven's portals draw more 

near. 
One family in earth and heaven are we. 
What though we strive an earthly face to see 
And strive in vain ; still luminous and clear 
The lights of Bethlehem behold appear, 
*'The day is breaking and the shadows flee." 



THE HIGHER LIFE 49 



THE CHRISTMAS NIGHT WATCH 

At dead of night the glory came, 
At dead of night the Christmas flame ; — 
The wondering shepherds leaped to hear 
The angel voices thrilling clear. 
Thenceforth each midnight brought to them 
The memories of Bethlehem ! 

Lord ! deep the shadows round me lie, 
No star shines through my wintry sky. 
Break through Thy heavens, and let the strain 
The angels sang resound again ; 
Fill all my lonely soul with light, 
Be born again at dead of night. 



50 A VICAR'S POEMS 



LENT 

At early dawn my soul cried out, 
With pain and travail spent, 

How fruitless is my dear desire : 
I cannot keep my Lent. 

"O foolish !" so I dreamed I heard 
A voice speak clear and free, 

""Give o'er the thought of keeping Lent, 
Let Lent, Christ's Lent, keep thee." 



THE HIGHER LIFE 51 



AN EASTER CAROL 

Sing we now our songs of gladness 

To our risen King. 
To His feast of life eternal 

Grateful hearts we bring. 
He who walked the ways of anguish, 

He who all earth's sorrows bore. 
Now at God's right hand is seated 

King forever more. 

King of Love, Thy children hail Thee 

On this royal day ; 
Scattering their flowers and blossoms 

All along Thy way. 
Thou who once endured man's crowning. 

Cruel thorns Thy pure brow pressed, 
Now art crowned with life and glory, 

King forever blest. 

Ended now Thine earthly conflict, 

All its battles done, 
Darkness flees before Thy rising 

Thou unsetting Sun ! 



52 A VICAR'S POEMS 



Death and sin once vainly struggled 
Over Thee the power to win ; 

But the grave could not enchain Thee, 
King o'er death and sin. 

King Thou art and crowned immortal, 

Heaven Thy home above ! 
Still for souls that need Thy succour 

Stirs Thy heart with love. 
Help us, Lord, our foes to conquer, 

Hear the prayer Thy children bring, 
Let our lives victorious hail Thee, 

Jesus, Lord and King. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 53 



WHITSUNDAY 

How is it that our tongue they know, 
These stranger sons that come from far, 
How read the sign that makes us one ? 
The miracle this day has done? 
From many lands are we, and lo, 
All gathered here as brethren are. 

What tongue is this that all may use ? 

What power here richly spread abroad? 

No Elamite or Parthian name 

We give to this swift touch of flame 

Able for evermore to fuse 

Our differing notes in one accord. 

It is God's love that thrills us here, 
And breaks our alien barrier through, 
And one in Him, we turn to see 
The oneness of humanity. 
And on each erstwhile deafened ear 
God's message falls as early dew. 



54 A VICAR'S POEMS 

So once again as on that Day, 
We come to seek thy gift divine, 
We too would see all souls in Thee, 
For we too claim thy sons to be. 
Purge out the dross ; drive fear away, 
And let the words we speak be Thine. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 55 



A MORNING SONG 

Shepherd dear, Shepherd sweet, 
Thee Thy loving children greet. 
Shepherd sweet, Shepherd strong, 
Listen to Thy children's song. 
Now another day is dawning, 
In the East the gladsome morning 
Lights the world, the skies adorning 
With its colours 'blithe and gay. 
Darkness flies 
As we rise. 

In our work, in our play. 
Shepherd be with us to-day ! 

When the night shadows deep 
Summon us again to sleep ; 
When the stars, one by one 
Tell us that our day is done. 
Shepherd, in the darkness tending 
Helpless lam'bs, from ill defending, 
O'er Thy sleeping children bending, 



56 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Shield Thou them from harm and fear- 
Be our rest 
Pure and blest ! 
Day and night be Thou near, 
Shepherd ever kind and dear. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 57 



TO W. A. 

Within His arms the children lay, 

Those little ones of long ago. 

He held them closely to His breast ; 

Upon their heads His hands He pressed. 

^'Keep not my little ones away 

From me, their Friend, who loves them so !'' 

Thou faithful Friend, most tried and dear, 
O tenderest Heart, look down and see 
Another lamb of Thine own fold — 
Be Thine the arms that closely hold 
His life to Thine forever near. 
Thy gift to us, we give to Thee. 



58 A VICAR'S POEMS 



ALL SAINTS 

Soldiers of Christ, whose work is done, 
Warriors for right, whose crowns are won, 
This is your day ; our praises ring. 
The Saints of God remembering. 

Peace is your portion ; endless rest, 

And fellowship forever blest 

With Him your King, Whose marks ye bear, 

Whose cross ye bore ; Whose crown ye share. 

For us no peace, but endless fight 
Against the armies of the night ; 
Yet only through such strife and pain 
May we that fellowship attain. 

Sometimes our struggles fruitless seem, 
And victory but a doubtful dream ; 
Lay down your arms, our weak hearts cry, 
Give over, fight no more, or die. 



THE HIGHER LIFE 59 



In that dark moment of our dread, 
When faith is cold, and hope seems dead, 
Is it a fancy that we hear 
A voice speak to the spirit's ear : 

Open their eyes that they 'behold 
The banners of Thy Saints unfold, 
Where, rank by rank, in myriads rise 
The matchless armies of the skies. 

These, too, the earthly fields have pressed, 
Once they by terror were possessed, 
These even now shall take their stand, 
Strengthening their brethren hand in hand. 

Ah, yes ! Our battles will ye fight, 
In all our darkness gleams your light ; 
Shine down on us, and point the way 
That leads from shadows into day. 

Because you conquered, so shall we 
Win yet with you our victory. 
Ye Saints of God, your work not done 
Till we, like you, our crowns have won ! 



6o A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE ANSWERED PRAYER 

"Thou, O God, art the thing that I long for." 

God, Thou dost give and Thou dost take; 

Thy equal love bestows, denies; 

Thy will it is when life is sweet, 

And plain the path before our eyes. 

Thy will no less, when weary feet 

The journey's end find hard to make. 

How easily the praises come 

When prayers are answered as we would ; 

But, oh, how faltering the strain, 

That claims Thee Father, hails Thee good, 

When our heart's wish returns again 

Void, and Thy loving lips are dumb. 

Dumb seem Thy lips to our despair ; 
Despair that flows from human loss. 
But He Who drank earth's bitterness 
Rebukes us from His patient cross. 
What matters earthly more or less. 
If Thou, O Father, still art there? 



THE HIGHER LIFE 6i 



Be Thou Thyself our constant plea, 
So satisfy the human cry. 
For all Thy wisdom has denied 
Thou never wilt Thyself deny. 
Rich, though we lack all else beside. 
Father, we cry, we lack not Thee. 



62 A VICAR'S POEMS 



AT A BAPTISM 

Not like those churlish ones of old 

Who would have kept them from Thy fold, 

We, Thy disciples, run to place 

Our little ones in Thy embrace. 

Open Thine arms, O Shepherd dear, 

A little waiting lamb is here ! 

Too well we know the thorny road 

They tread, who stray from Thine abode ; 

That sweet abode where Thou dost keep, 

In safety. Thine obedient sheep. 

Open the gate, O Shepherd dear, 

A little waiting lamb is here ! 

Nothing Thy lamb knows yet but this, 
A father's arm, a mother's kiss ; 
No claim upon Thee, save that Thou 
Wast Love incarnate once, and now. 
Open Thy heart, O Shepherd dear, 
A little waiting lamb is here ! 



THE HIGHER LIFE 63 



THE CONVERSION OF ST. PAUL 

Lx>r(i, as on this day Thou didst dawn 

With sudden light and strong, 
On Thine Apostle journeying 

The Syrian wastes along. 
Along the Syrian wastes he rode, 

The red sun overhead, 
The desert like an unknown sea, 

And silent as the dead. 

He saw not sandy plain nor sky, 

Nor felt the sun's fierce ray ; 
Alone from all, he ever kept 

His solitary way, 
Waiting, till from the horizon's brim, 

Sudden and cool and sweet, 
Damascus, like a gift of God, 

His burning eyes might greet. 

Within his heart one purpose held, 

Death to a cursed race; 
x\nd ever as he mused, more deep 

The gloom fell on his face. 



64 A VICAR'S POEMS 



When sudden as a cloud that breaks 

The morning sun before, 
A voice spake, that in his great heart, 

Kept echoing evermore. 

Oh days long past! Oh travelling souls! 

Oh ! deserts hot and still ! 
Sounds there no voice, in these dim days, 

Ill-guided lives to fill 
With high and noble purposes? 

Damascus-ward we fare ! 
Speaks that Voice but to him that breathed 

That distant Syrian air? 

Smite us with that conviction, I^rd, 

That burned his breast within ; 
That ever eager love of Thee, 

And fiercer hate of sin. 
Breathe life in aspirations young, 

Strike death to deadening fears. 
Shine through the gloom that rises from 

The irrevocable years ! 

Teach us to trust, though faith be dim, 

And prayers but slowly come, 
Uncovenanted mercies. Lord, 

To guide the wanderer home ; 



THE HIGHER LIFE 



65 



Since once Thine own Apostle o'er 

The Syrian desert trod, 
Nor dreamed that God so near him was, 

Though he were far from God! 



Poems of College Years 



COLLEGE YEARS 69 



A VISION OF REST 

One day I had a vision sweet of Rest. 

Her face ? Ah me ! So beautiful and kind, 

So full of Love divine and tenderest pity, 

As if Almighty Art had reached its height 

In giving life to that blest countenance — 

In wonder reverential, and in love, 

"O Rest," I said, "the Prototype of Death, 

O, take me to thyself! and grant me Peace — " 

"Not so," the vision said in accents mjld, 

"Oh, Youth — know'st not that only Rest is given 

To those whose work on earth is fully done ? 

Come near and mark the furrows in my face. 

Such meeds of toil and labour must thou bear, 

Ere thou at last canst gain the boon of Peace 

When life is gone and man begins to live." 

And as she spoke, I closer drew and gazed, 

And on that face I marked the legacy 

Of Care — yet marred it not but rather gave 

To it a higher and more human strength, 

And made it, were it possible, more grand — 

And lo! Upon a sudden that blest face 



70 A VICAR'S POEMS 



Was flooded with a radiance divine — 

And smiling, as she said, "Work till the end ! 

Be faithful ! I will come to thee at last." 

She vanished from my yearning, longing gaze — 

So passed away the Vision sweet of Rest. 



COLLEGE YEARS 71 



A RECOLLECTION OF FLORENCE 

"Mother of sorrows! Our Lady of Pity. 

Oh, in the hearts of thy servants shine bright." 
Slow rose the chant. O'er the slumbering city 

Hung the light clouds of an Italy's night. 

On past white portals that shone through the 
darkness, 

On past the tombs of those dead long ago; 
Far to the altar, on whose sacred brightness 

Fell the dim rush-light's uncertain glow, 

Passed the procession ; and still rose the chant, 
Echoing ever as though sad to cease ; 

"We pray to thee. Mother, this boon to us grant, 
Oh, to the hearts of thy servants give peace." 

Slow they passed back — ^by bright tapers light- 
ened, 
And as they passed, I too turned to go ; 
Mind and thought lifted, heart and soul bright- 
ened 
By that sad prayer to our Lady of woe. 



72 A VICAR'S POEMS 



For in my heart as I knelt there and prayed 
On Santa Croce's bare stones, on that night 

A ray of her brightness indeed had there strayed, 
Into my heart ''Her spirit shone bright." 

Into the dungeon of self and wrong feeling, 
Sadly in which my best thoughts were confined, 

Came there a Love and a Peace as soft stealing 
As odors of roses on summer's faint wind. 



COLLEGE YEARS 73 



SUNSET LAKE 

The lovely lake of sunset, on whose breast 
The last love-tokens of the day do rest, 
And trembling there in softest silence lie, 
Content in dying if but there to die. 
Ah ! Lovely lake ! how often have I gazed 
Upon thy brightness. Pleasant thoughts are 

raised 
As now I see thee — thoughts that strangely take 
Fantastic shapes and curious, and that make 
Sweet chords of music on fond memory's lyre 
That I could list for aye and never tire, 
The song of long ago that nevermore 
Shall sound re-echoing on the sun-kissed shore, 
The song that once she sang. Oh, lake so bright. 
How often when the portals of the night 
Yet stood in silence barred across the sky ; 
When softly unreal beauties from on high 
Fell on the landscape stretching far away, 
Unto the limit of the realms of day, 
She like some angel in her beauty rare, 
Reflecting in her eyes the sunset fair. 



74 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Would sweetly sing as swift our boat moved on, 
The song that, like the singer, now is gone. 
Hushed are its echoes, silent now the strain, 
The sun has set and slowly drips the rain. 
The angry storm-king stands athwart the sky, 
And pattering rain-drops on thy bosom lie, 
And mingle with thy waters — as these tears 
Do mingle with the thoughts of other years. 
In sadness from thee, slow my way I make. 
And say farewell for aye, fair Sunset Lake. 



COLLEGE YEARS 75 



LILIES 

Soft the summer breezes blow 
O'er the flower-laden meads, 
Where the willowy marsh-born reeds 
Bend down to the gentle flow 
Of the brooklet, winding down 
Through the fields, beyond the town. 

In the first flush of the dawn, 
P'rom their slumbers, lilies white, 
Lift themselves, and in the sight 
Of purest nature, as the morn 
Smiles upon them, seem to be 
The essence true of purity. 

For across the meadows dark, 
In the last still hours of night. 
Radiant in celestial light, 
Angels pass, and leave their mark 
Upon the fields, and softly kiss 
The lilies into loveliness. 



76 A VICAR'S POEMS 

So we know when comes the morn, 
Dark though be the night and long, 
If we listen, faint the song 
The angels sing soft in the dawn, 
Shall our sorrowed hearts surcease 
With its melody of peace. 



COLLEGE YEARS 77 



THE DESERTED QASTLE 

High on the mountain's brow it stands 
And looks o'er many a waste of lea, 

Where far beyond the outstretched lands 
Is seen the shining of the sea ; 

A narrow circling band of white 

That glistens in the long daylight. 

From far below faintly ascend 
And float about the lonely towers, 

Field odours sweet that gently blend 
With perfume of the garden flowers 

That blossom 'neath the castle wall 

Or nestle 'neath its bulwarks tall. 

The rusted gate wide open swings 
Responsive to the wanderer's hand. 

And loud, aye loud its creaking rings. 
And silent warders but demand 

The cause whereof he enters here — 

The home of death, the haunts of fear. 



78 A VICAR'S POEMS 



The dead leaves crackle as his tread 
Resounds through court and palace yard, 

And stare grim forms, as of the dead, 
With stony faces, stern and hard, 

Who guard the entrance to the hall 

O'er which deep gloom lies like a pall. 

From out the open banquet room, 
As suddenly he opes the door, 

Glide past the phantoms of the gloom 
That haunt the castle old and hoar. 

And slow the breezes through it sweep 

And shudder at the darkness deep. 

Through many a crevice in the wall, 

Through rifts that grow as years roll on. 

The green shoo^ts of the ivy fall. 

And o'er the banquet walls have grown 

And cover with their leafy screen 

Old armour and its golden sheen. 

And from the summit of the tower 
At dead of night strange creatures fly, 

And mock the stillness of the hour 
With many a loud and mournful cry, 



COLLEGE YEARS 79 

And swoop down from the heights moss- 
grown 
Through the long halls so stark and lone. 

One day in wandering I espied 
A tender spray of flowerets blue 

Close by the wall, as though to hide 
Their sweet rare faces that I knew. 

I stood and gazed long at the spot 

Where grew the bloom — ''Forget-me-not." 

I looked about, deep silence all, 
The castle stood against the sky ; 

I walked a pace, mine own foot-fall 
Was all I heard. I drew a sigh 

And plucked the flower from off the plot 

And murmured, "All is now forgot." 



8o A VICAR'S POEMS 



AN EVEN-SONG 

As swiftly sped our boat along, 

Past woods and islands green and fair, 

The tall limp reeds and flowers among 
That nodded to the soft spring air. 

And on past hamlets hushed and drear, 
By oaks that stood for ages long, 

The echoes trembled far and near, 
The echoes of our even-song. 

Fresh and fair 

The evening air 
Blows softly o'er the lea. 

Lightly sail 

With fav'ring gale 
The ships away at sea. 

The tired day 
As child from play 
Seeks rest at even-tide, 



COLLEGE YEARS 8i 

And worrying care 
And day's despair 
Themselves rest at our side. 

Night's curtain falls, 

And sleep soft calls 
Each one from care to cease, 

As when at last 

Our sorrows past, 
God calls to rest and peace. 

Slow rowed we back and no sound heard, 

Save where the oar the water moved, 
Or nov/ and then some sweet-voiced bird 
wSang his "good-night'' to her he loved. 

And soon upon us night came down. 
And toilsome day with saddening eve 

Quick passed away — forever gone 
To lands where other davs do live. 



82 A VICAR'S POEMS 



SONG 

What is the love my heart hath given 
Thee whose Hfe is as breath to me ? 

Breath and sunshine, flower and feeling, 
Wind of the East on a sluggish sea, 

Over the wild waste waters stealing, 
Thrilling and filling my heart with thee. 

What is the love thy heart has given 

Me whose soul is thine alway ? 
The faint winds quicken, the even lights glisten. 

The birds' songs melt on the night away. 
And still I linger and still I listen 

For the low sweet words thy lips shall say. 

What is the love our hearts have given 

Each to the other loved and leal ? 
A joy no night may darken ever, 

A word no sweet dead lips can seal, 
Within the heart at rest forever 

From the sorrows that beating hearts must 
feel. 



COLLEGE YEARS 83 



^ TO W. M. B. 

Hqw gratefully to those the day has tired, 

To brows that ache, to troubled hearts at night, 
Blows soft the wind from summer seas, when 
fired 
With sunset hues, the east glows on the sight! 
How cool the breeze after the noontide heat ! 
Had they not toiled, would it have seemed as 
s'weet ? 

So comes thy letter like a balm to me. 

Its words like summer winds my spirit kiss 
Into forgetfulness of all save thee ; 

And yet — O, dear one — could I cherish this 
So much — thy sympathy ? but for the pain 
It soothed ? Oh, for such cure, come pain again ! 



84 A VICAR'S POEMS 



REST 

Into the forest depths I passed, 
Beyond where human foot had pressed 
The leaves that scorned a peaceful rest 
Upon the bosom of the ground, 
But round and round 
In whirling eddies, swift and fast, 
Blew here, blew there, with every breeze 
That whispered music through the trees. 

And there I found a silent lake, 

So still and calm and pure, it seemed 

Its waters smiled, as though they dreamed 

That some sweet hope had proven true. 

Ah me ! how few 

May dream and dream and never wake! 

May live within the realm of sleep, 

Nor wake to live, nor live to weep ! 

So crept I back full silently 

And left the waters softly sleeping, 

Safe in the silent forest's keeping. 



COLLEGE YEARS 85 



Back to the dust of toil and day 

I took my way. 

It seemed as out I passed that I 

Had seen death sleeping there, unmoved ! 

Nay, looked upon his face and loved ! 



86 A VICAR'S POEMS 



LONGING 

The train goes thundering on its iron way, 
Yet I its passenger am spirit free. 
I close my eyes and once again I hear 
The soft wash of the waves, so crystal clear, 
Upon the little sand beach tirelessly; 
Where all day long the happy children play. 

I see the sunset's purple and its gold, 

The dark hills stand tO' greet my spirit sight, 

The lingering boats make harbour one by one, 

The seaman takes in sail, his day is done. 

Not earth-born is the peace that with the night 

Enwraps our island as a sheep its fold. 



COLLEGE YEARS 87 



TWO PICTURES 



Through the grand cathedral slowly to the sacred 

altar far, 
Where the holy taper shining glimmered like a 

distant star, 

Where the censers swung and slowly wafted on 

the scented air 
Perfumes like those of the roses, blooming in the 

summer fair, 

Passed a group of maidens happy, strewing flow- 
ers in the way. 

Over which there walked a bride, of all, the hap- 
piest on that day. 

By a pillar near the altar, where the aged priest 

did stand. 
Curious watching, stood two travellers, strangers 

from a distant land. 



A VICAR'S POEMS 



As intent they gazed about them, sweet a bridal 

song was sung 
By a white-robed choir of virgins, as the flowers 

fair were flung, 

At the feet of her now kneehng at the altar with 

her love, 
And the aged priest prayed softly for a blessing 

from above. 

Holy Mother, now descending. 
In her heart give love unending, 
Joy and peace, forever blending. 
By thy grace ! 

Blessing every fond endeavour 
With thine own Almighty favour. 
May the light of heaven shine ever 
In her face ! 

When the twilight softly stealing. 
When the bells of heaven faint pealing, 
Summon her from earthly feeling 
Far away, 

May our children slowly bear her 
To the church, and as they leave her 



COLLEGE YEARS 89 

Cast as we, with love, before her, 
Flowerets gay. 

Slow the strangers left the portals, musing deep 

upon the scene, 
Oft upon that bridal thought they, in their travels 

far, I ween. 

II 

Hushed was all the great cathedral as two trav- 
ellers paced slow 

To the altar draped in mourning, where but one 
short year ago 

In the blushing of the springtime, happy lovers 

two were wed ; 
And the silence that surrounds them is the silence 

of the dead. 

As they bow in adoration to the sombre altar 

there, 
Hark! a death chant wafted soft and low now 

breaks upon the air. 

All life is love and love is life 
And life is death and death is life 



90 A VICAR'S POEMS 

And love is death and death is love ! 
Miserere. 

The summer flower, the autumn leaf — 
In one short hour — how like a ^breath 
Doth fade away like thee, O friend ! 
Miserere. 

At the last hour, O God of love, 
O, by Thy power, take us above 
To dwell with Thee, who art the Life. 
Miserere. 

As the strains died into silence, from the old 

cathedral's door 
Came a mournful throng of maidens, those that 

in the days of yore, 

Once so happy, sang sweet music for their friend, 
and flowers gave, 

Then they came to grace her bridal, now to dec- 
orate her grave. 

On the bier the sweet dead maiden lay with hands 

crossed on her breast. 
Clasping lilies white, sole partners of her long 

unending rest. 



COLLEGE YEARS 91 

Slow the strangers left the portals, while the 

death chant rose and fell, 
And its strains so weird and mournful seemed to 

ring their funeral knell. 



92 A VICAR'S POEMS 



AT TWILIGHT 

Love, at the hour when nature iisteneth 
To hear the bells of evening call to prayer, 
Alone, I knelt upon the altar stair, 
While all about was silence deep as death ; 
Nor dared I look at Her who comforteth 
The stricken heart, and sad. No place was there 
For me, in pain, I thought. I did not dare 
To pray for my poor self, but as the breath 
Of incense floated through the sacred place, 
As though some spirit whispered to me, 'Tray !" 
Upon my bended knees I prayed for thee! 
And as I knelt there came to me a grace, 
An inward peace and hope, while far away 
I heard the organ sounding solemnly. 

No longer now I feared to upward gaze 
Into Her face, where high the altar stood. 
I thought thy spirit near m.e, and I felt 
Purer thereby, as though we two had knelt 
And shared together, as in other days. 
Communion with the Beautiful and Good. 



COLLEGE YEARS 93 



INTERVALE 

O, pleasant town in the hills away ! 

Asleep in the hills like a bird safe-nested — 
O, pleasant walk by the winding way 
In the freshening air of the autumn day, 

High up to the summits snowy crested — 

O, meadows that gleam in the morning sun — 
When the grain bends low with the breath of 
the air — 
O, happy, who looks, when the day is done 
Afar where the brooklets gently run, 
On Peace and Happiness everywhere. 

O, solemn watch of the hills at night, 

Where thou liest asleep, O ancient town ! 
When the mists with a covering soft and light 
Wrap farm and orchard and grain-field white. 
And the river that skirts the meadows brown — 

O, may the eyes that look on thee. 

Thine utter rest and thy sure safe-keeping, 



94 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Drink in thy peace and happily 
Know that some time there is to be 

For them a Rest like thy peaceful sleeping! 



COLLEGE YEARS 9S 



WANDERING 

Not yet ! The way is long and far and wild, 

And oftentimes high mountains rise between 
Me and the land I seek, and like a child 

Bewildered, lost and weeping, I would lean 
Upon thee for support. Point out the way, 
Or stay beside me through the weary day, 
And thou may'st leave me when the sun has set — 
But go not yet. 

Not yet ! At times the mists are very near, 
And on my face I feel their breath and see 

Strange shapes that come and go. Anon I hear 
The murmur of wild voices mocking me. 

And in the gloom thy hand I clasp and pray — 

"Not yet — ^the night is dark — wait until day ! 

Wait till the dews upon the fields are wet. 
But go not yet." 

Not yet, nor ever take thyself from me ! 
I cannot go alone. Without thy hand 



96 A VICAR'S POEMS 

In mine, my heart would fail so utterly ! 
Beloved, let us seek that distant land. 
Through all the years that in the darkness hide, 
Together let us journey side by side — 
Leave me when the world's sorrow we forget, 
But go not yet. 



COLLEGE YEARS 97 



THE VOICE 

Was it the wash of the waves as they beat 

Low on the shore in the evening sun ? 

Was it the rush of the winds as they sped 

Far to the west where the day lay dead, 

Like the rush and the hurry of bird-wings fleet, 

Seeking the south when the summer is done? 

The air that rose from the sea was cold 

And heavy with moisture from the waves — 

I felt its breath and heard the low 

Melodious moaning of the flow 

Of the waters beneath that were backward rolled 

From the hidden depths of the sea nymph's caves. 

The sun went down and the twilight fell 

And the air grew chill and the pale stars shone ; 

Yet ever above the voice of the sea 

I heard that sound and it seemed to me 

At times like the throb of a passing bell, 

Telling the years of a life that was gone— 



98 A VICAR'S POEMS 

And at times I thought it was the cry 

Of him that seeks one gone astray 

In the dark — ^and along the shadowed track 

Through wood and plain he calls ''Come back !" 

But only the night wind hurries by, 

Or a gleam of moonlight lights his way. 



COLLEGE YEARS 99 



TO MY MOTHER 

ON RECEIPT OF A VALENTINE 

Mother, sometimes when I am all alone 

My thoughts go back across the bygone years, 

That seem for one brief moment to have flown 

Away forever, and again I seem 

To be a child with thee — again I dream 

The dreams of boyhood, all unstained with tears. 

I seem to sit for one brief hour with thee 
As once I sat, when in the golden west 
Faded the day in darkness, silently — 
Again I hear thee sing, the dear sweet hymn 
The while my heart is bowed, my eyes are dim, 
''Ah ! Weary Pilgrim ! Cease thy mourning ! 
Rest!" 

Ah ! those old times are hidden now so deep. 
So deep within the shadow far behind — 
Alas! we cannot wake them from their sleep! 



100 A VICAR'S POEMS 

And thou and I have met Time on the way — 

And he has looked on us — ah, well-a-day ! 

He touched all else ! Our hearts he could not find. 

So would I thank thee for the token sweet 

Qf thy dear love for me — Dear, lift thy face 

And let me my old boyish vows repeat 

Of love and reverence, and let me he 

As one has sung : ''A child to-night with thee/' 

And let me rest in my old resting place. 



COLLEGE YEARS loi 



AN EVENING SONG AT PARTING 

When the eventide doth bring, 
With its stillness soft and sweet, 

Memories round our hearts that cling 
Dear and deathless ; when we meet 

Round the altar of our prayer, 

Saviour, be Thou with us there ! 

May we know as there we kneel 

That however far apart, 
Thou, dear Lord, canst gently steal 

Into each and every heart : — 
Where Thou art the shadows flee, 
All is light, and hope, in Thee. 

What though wide seas roll between, 
Love is wider than the sea ; 

Many journeys have we been, 
Yet we went not far from Thee. 

Like an atmosphere Thy love 

Pressed about us from above. 



102 A VICAR'S POEMS 

So we sing our parting song. 

So we breathe our last ''good-bye" ! 

Days are short, but hearts are strong ; 
Night comes soon, but morning sky 

Follows quickly, and the shore 

Waits to greet us evermore. 



COLLEGE YEARS 103 



AN EPITAPH 

Here lies the love that God's love granted 
Us for a while to keep, 
Here lies the flower that God's hand planted 
Safe in the earth's heart deep ! 

Winterward, follow the day's swift hours, 

Follow they fast or slow, 
Deep out of sight lies the sweetest of flowers, 

Winter came long ago. 



I04 A VICAR'S POEMS 



MISUNDERSTOOD 

If in the dark and the gloom to-night, 

The gloom without and the gloom within, 
Out of the silence soft and light, 

With a touch my inmost heart should win, 
Into my hand some hand might steal. 

With never a word or a whisper low, 
But only a pressure that I should feel, 

And a swift strong pulsing my soul should 
know. 

How like a tired child would I 

Lie back in my chair and close my eyes 
And dreamily, restfully murmur, "Why, 

I've waited for thee with tears and sighs! 
With tears and sighs for many a year, 

Till I dreamed thy day was over-past ; 
But now thou art come and art with me, dear, 

And I feel thy hand in mine at last. 

Oh, sweet fruition of bitter years ! 

Oh, friend, I can see and love and trust, 



COLLEGE YEARS 105 

How short the travelled way appears 

For all its toil and heat and dust ! 
Thou seem'st to have been with me every mile, 

With thy hand in mine through each long day, 
I wonder I murmured even a while 

At the length and the weariness of the way. 

Such is the dream I have, and feel 

Floating about me, like some old strain 
Into my heart that once did steal, 

And left me to think it would come again ; 
Will it ever come or is it a spell 

That lures me on, and only a lure? 
Ah, when shall I know and touch as well 

The hand that to me shall be strong and sure? 

Somehow to-night I am so alone ! 

Alone and apart from the nearest and near — 
It is not that they are less mine own. 

Or that (perhaps) I am to them less dear; 
But to-night they are all so far, so far, 

And the prayers that I make are soulless and 
dead. 
And voiceless and cold as the farthest star 

Are the words I read and long have read. 



Jo6 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Oh, for the soul whose eyes so deep 

Should reflect there dearest hopes of mine, 
Oh, for the love those thoughts to keep 

Sacred, and the aims of my life divine ! 
For I long to do and be, not seem. 

And ever I long for that withheld hand 
To clasp, and the words as the words of the dream 

I know and I trust and I understand. 



COLLEGE YEARS 107 



SUMMER AND WINTER 



Sweet and pure the amber light, 

On thy window casement lying, 
Mingles with the rose leaves white 

In the scented night winds sighing — 
And I sing as thou doth sleep, 

Songs of drowsy cadences. 
Of low brooks where gray willows weep 

And birds call through the dreamy trees- 
Sleep ! Sleep ! 

Soft as rain and sweet and free 
May the night winds be to thee, 
In their dark arms holding thee, 
To their great hearts folding thee. 
Sleep ! Sleep ! 

II 

Still asleep ! The night is deeper 
Yet than all nights that have past, 

Never yet has any sleeper 
Waked to say 'tis gone at last. 



io8 A VICAR'S POEMS 

Once I sang as thou didst sleep, 
'Twas long ago — so long ago — 

Oh ; a weary watch I keep 
When thou liest low. 

Sleep ! Sleep ! 

Thou wilt not awake at morn 
To hear the scythes sing in the corn ! 
The violets bloom hut not for thee, 
Immortelles and rose-mary. 

Sleep ! Sleep ! 



COLLEGE YEARS 109 



A MEMORY 

Hushed is the noise of day: 
About the elms, that bending low 
To catch the whisp'rings of the night, 

The breezes blow 

And seem to say, 
"The care of day hath taken flight." 

The grim old castle walls 

Of dark Montlery'g massive pile, 

Stand stark and grim athwart the sky — 

Save when a smile 

Upon them falls 
As shafts of moonlight on them lie. 

Now peal the midnight bells, 

O'er sleeping town and meadows dark, 

Where in the grass the goblins lie, 

And start and hark. 

As through the dells, 
The midnight echoes faintly sigh. 



no A VICAR'S POEMS 



NIGHT 

When restful comes the night and heated day 
Has passed with all its heartaches from our sight, 
And round the town, that nods in slumbers light. 
The fairy progeny of darkness play; 

Then slowly as the gloom comes on apace 
The messengers of light from yon pale moon 
In splendor haste their mission blest, and soon 
All nature glows and brightens at the grace 

And beauty of the mistress of the night, 

Then glancing moonbeams shining through the 

trees, 
And branches bending to the sighing breeze. 
Show forth the tender leaves in colors bright. 

Where dreary shadows lie athwart the lawn, 
And ghostly forms to stalk in silence seem, 
There too full sudden shines the silvery beam, 
And in a twinkling fly the shadows, gone 



COLLEGE YEARS iii 

To hide beneath the dark old church's walls, 
Or crouch behind the tombs and sullen lurk, 
Or where by marshes rank and grassy birk. 
The owl in harsh discordant notes loud calls — 

The chapel tower is tipped with silver bars 
That glancing play about the vane that stands 
And frolics with the winds that come from lands 
That distant seem as yon bright, distant stars. 

Then songs of love and beauty rise and cease. 
And rise again — then tremble soft away 
As shadowy night before the dawn of day — 
And silence broods o'er all, and all is peace. 



112 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE OLD BELL AT CHERTSEY* 

I stood on Chertsey's bridge as died the day, 

And dying, left its heritage to eve ; 
O'er all the land the sun's soft radiance lay, 

And as it set the day had ceased to live. 

And underneath the bridge with many a turn, 
Among the meadows clad with summer's green, 

By banks all overhung with tangled fern, 
The gently sloping hills, grain-clad, between. 

The Thames flowed on as softly and as sure 
As when in ages past the Roman horde 

First set their feet upon old Britain's shore. 
And, conquering, roughly trod the grassy sward. 

But not of Caesar thought I, as I gazed, 
Nor yet of Runnymede before me spread. 

Nor yet of Henry, who his life work o'er, 
Lies in the church, himself and memory dead. 



♦ Vide the "Curfew Bell" and old legends. 



COLLEGE YEARS 113 

For as I gazed upon the silent town, 

From out that ivied tower there rang the bell 

That told that one more day of life was gone, 
The number of departed days to swell. 

But more it told — how from that belfry's height 
A maiden, urged by love divine, did swing 

To save her lover's life — and for this deed 
Eternal ages do her praises sing. 

"Alas !" I thought, "where now can love be found 
So great as that which nerved that maiden's 
hand?" 

The old bell pealed a loud reproachful sound, 
That echoed far and near throughout the land. 

"Where ?" said its echo — "Youth, go to thy home! 

Read in thy mother's heart what love has 
brought — 
A life of sacrifice — with acts more brave 

Than that which in the ages past was wrought 

"By that frail maiden clinging to my side 

As out there rang the curfew's mournful wail — 

For love more noble actions strives to hide 
Than ever poet told or olden tale." 



114 A VICAR'S POEMS 



NIGHT AND MORNING 



I looked across the ocean lying 

Asleep as the sad night fell, — 
And afar on the waters, moaning, crying, 

I heard the lighthouse bell ; 
And ever its mournful cadence dying 

Of pale death seemed to tell. 

II 

I looked across the waters glowing, 

As the bright dawn blushed o'er the sea ; 

And ever the joyous winds were blowing, 
The bell's tone far and free — 

And I thought as I heard its cadence flowing, 
It sang of life to me. 



COLLEGE YEARS 115 



AT THE FIREPLACE 

Wilt thou not come ? The winds are keen 
And cold without. In my demesne, 
Ah ! all is warmth and brightness. See 
How in the hearth-stone merrily 
Dancing, quaint goblins are seen ! 

Sit here — or hy yon mantel lean 
And watch the flickering golden sheen 
Fall on the antique tapestry — 
Wilt thou not come ? 

Ah, do not wait ! The time has been 
When nothing could have come between 
Our hearts — and now ? Ah, mournfully 
The wind is calling — see they flee 
The goblin crew, led by their queen. 
Wilt thou not come ? 



i|6 A VICAR'S POEMS 



TRIOLETS 

Distrust 

I know you'll forget 
When the summer goes by ! 
Would we had not met ! 
I know you'll forget, 
I cannot tell why ! 
I love you — and yet 
I know you'll forget 
When the summer goes by. 

Trust 

Yet thine eyes are so true 
They could never deceive ! 
In their clear depths of blue, 
Thine eyes are so true, 
I see written "Believe!" 
Why then should I grieve ? 
For thine eyes are so true 
They could never deceive ! 



COLLEGE YEARS 117 



A DREAM 

"Wisely improve the Present — it is Thine." 

— Longfellow's "Hyperion/' 

Three forms there passed before me in a dream, 
Three spirits — each his own way did pursue. 
The first and last quick did recede from view, 
The second paused — and thus to speak did seem : 

"Oh, youth, those spirits that so quickly fly, 
The Past and Future are — for neither grieve — 
The Future will but certainly deceive, 
The Past will only bring to you a sigh. 

"Behold in me the truest of the three ! 
I am the Present ! and thy staunchest friend, 
E'er at thy side, I'll guard thee to the end 
If only thou wilt put thy trust in me." 

Long time I paused, and then at last I said, 
"Oh, Spirit of the Present, be it so !" 



ii8 A VICAR'S POEMS 



"From out my heart let Past and Future go." 
Then sudden I awoke — the dream had fled. 

So with the Present always do I live, 
Nor gaze upon the Past with longing sight, 
Nor strive to pierce the Future's blackened night, 
Resolved to do what may the Present give. 



COLLEGE YEARS 119 



FAREWELL 

I do not say, remember! — 
For that were a boon too great 

To ask of thee, upon whose smile 
The hopes of many wait — 

Ah, no! thou canst not love 
One such as I, and yet — 

Though I do not beg thee remember, 
I do not say — forget ! 



I20 A VICAR'S POEMS 



SLEIGHING SONG 

What ho ! the winds are crying, 
"Come away !" 
Haste while the pale moon's light is falling o'er 

us, 
Haste while the night air trembles with our 
chorus, 

Away, away. 
Across the frozen plains and meadows flying, 
Come away. 

What ho ; sweet voices call us. 

Come away. 

Haste while warm lips are silent 'neath our 

glances. 
Haste while a dream of love the hour entrances, 

Away, away. 

Into the night — who cares what may befall us? 

Come away. 



COLLEGE YEARS 121 



What ho ! the stars are paling — 
Come away. 
Haste while bright eyes look love (to thine re- 
plying) , 
What care we then, if all the stars be dying ! 

Away, away, 

At freezing hearts, not freezing nights, be railing ! 

Come away. 



122 A VICAR'S POEMS 



A SONG 

The fragrance of the summer rose — 

Oh, when most sweet? 
What time Zephyrus softly blows 

Across the wheat ; 
Or woos the blossoms and the flowers 
In summer hours? 

Ah, no ! far sweeter, through the snow 

Or blinding rain. 
Or when the winds of winter blow, 

It comes again — 
The perfume of the roseleaf, faint, 
As lover's plaint. 

And now that I have lost thee, sweet, 

Nor see thee near — 
Nor yet those songs of thine I greet 

With loving ear ; 
How dear to me thou art ! and yet 
I must forget ! 



COLLEGE YEARS 123 



IN THE GLOAMING 

A subtle sense of sadness steals 
Upon the evening air, and low 
The gentle rhythmic underflow 
Of melody sweeps on, and seals 
The lips in silence, while the eyes 
Are filled with tears, the air with sighs 

And sad, the face of her that plays, 
As though she longed for by-gone days. 



124 A VICAR'S POEMS 



A RONDEAU 

summer wind that faint doth blow 
Over the green fields, soft and low, 
Lift, lift the tresses from her face 
And show to me that winsome grace 
That she would wish 1 did not know ! 

With love of all the dearest foe 
Go from my heart to her heart go 
And beg for my poor heart a place, 
O summer wind, 

In her affections. Should she show 
To her true love one sweet glance, though 
She ne'er did lift again the lace 
To show the treasures of her face 

1 yet would forth full happy go, 

O summer wind ! 



COLLEGE YEARS 125 



GUARDED 

Thou canst not read my meaning? Can it be 
My eyes reflect not what their master's heart, 

So full of love, would tell to only thee, 
And play the traitor's part? 

Ah, well ! perchance they showed their wisdom 
too — 

Why should I ask what I must he denied ? 
And so my eyes, for my sake, looked at you, 

And seeming happy, lied ! 



Other Verses 



OTHER VERSES 129 



A VICAR'S GARDEN 

One morning to my friends I said, 

"I too shall have a garden bed. 

And flowers pink and flowers blue 

Shall bloom for me, dear friends, and you." 

My friends they laughed and said, ''Not so; 
No flowers for thee shall ever grow. 
Tread thou thy streets ; let others sing 
Their songs as they go gardening!" 

So mocked my friends ; yet here I stand 
Beside my little garden land, 
And proudly sing my happy lay 
Because a pink rose blooms to-day ! 

Lady ! you never jeered at me. 
Nor mocked my cockney husbandry, 
And when for flowers the weeds I tilled 
Your eyes with no deep laughter filled. 

Between ourselves, I do not know 
However came my rose to grow ! 



130 A VICAR'S POEMS 

But bloom it does in this sweet air, 
The glory of my garden fair ! 

So in pure gratitude I lay 

My rose within thy hand to-day, 

And walk these streets with happy tread, 

Rejoicing in my garden hed. 



OTHER VERSES 131 



EASTERN WAY 

Between the islands flawing 
The salt tides follow fast, 

They follow fast as knowing 
They reach the sea at last ! 

Their rising and their falling 
No earthly power can stay, 

A voice to them is calling 
Along the Eastern Way. 

My little 'boat is rocking 

Moored safely near the strand, 
The tides cry, yearning, mocking. 

It will not understand. 

But some day it will listen, 
And bear me far away. 

To where the sea waves glisten 
Beyond the Eastern Way ! 



132 A VICAR'S POEMS 



SOUGHT AND FOUND 

I wandered through the ancient ways 
Where once her feet had pressed, 

The breath of ne'er forgotten days 
Filled all my soul with rest. 

Here surely, said I, I shall find 
That dear remembered place, 

And where the little sea paths wind, 
Shall look upon her face. 

Yet as I gazed I could not see 
That form of all most fair, 

What longer journey could there be 
Than that which brought me there? 

I closed my eyes in sorrow deep 

And by my side she stood 
As though that eager tryst to keep, 

And then I understood. 



OTHER VERSES 133 

No need henceforth long seas to glide 

Or pierce a bygone day, 
The one I sought walks by my side, 

Her love illumes my way. 



134 A VICAR'S POEMS 



EAGLE PARK 

How hard to change for rest as this so deep 
The roaring city's tireless toil and din. 
Here life is individual, natural, sweet ! — 
There lost amid the rush of hurrying feet! 
Happy the soul who here or there may keep 
Pure Nature's peace and quietude within. 



OTHER VERSES I35 



TO W. B. D. 

To-day your heart's door opens wide 
To those who have a right to win 

An entrance to its warmth inside, 
Please let my little verses in ! 

From over seas the greetings fly 

On wireless currents through the blue. 

Is it too much to heed my cry ? 

Please let my little verses through. 

From North and South, from West and East 
Glad messages your threshold throng. 

They hail you on your natal Feast, 
My verses sing the self-same song. 

Please listen to their tiny strain. 

Accept the tribute which they bring, 

Then send them on their way again, 
Happy because you heard them sing. 



136 A VICAR'S POEMS 



TO MY MOTHER 

Mother, this story of a Httle child 

I give thee at this holy Christmas-tide. 

Holy — since in a long past winter wild 

Another Babe its sweet eyes opened wide — 

It was indeed a solemn peaceful night 

Whereon the holy Star of Bethlehem shone 
bright. 

And thou to whom that Sweet Babe is most dear 
Hast seemed through all the past most pure to 
keep 
Thy childlike heart so fresh and true and clear, 
As though the white years were a dreamful 
sleep — 
That soon is gone and thou a child again 
As He that saw the Star upon Judea's plain. 

Ah, Mother dear, this be thy Christmas Tree, 
To feel thy children's love around thee cling — 

Theirs that in England over the wide sea — 
Ours that to thy feet sweet love gifts bring — 

Ah me — when shall we all as oft before 

Gather around thee. Mother dear, once more? 



OTHER VERSES 137 



TO PHYLLIS 

To-day your little Christmas bird 
(Set free beneath the Italian blue) 

Brought safe to me your festal word. 
Across the wintry seas she flew ; 

Nor winter's storms had power to stay 

Your birdling on her western way. 

I stroked her wings and held her fast, 
And praised her for her journey done. 

And when the hour of rest was passed 
I set her free beneath the sun. 

Go, little bird, I said, and win 

That tender heart to take thee in ! 

Straight up she flew and out to sea ; 

And now I fancy her anear 
The home where all her soul would be. 

Your home and hers she holds most dear- 
Italy's land, so far away. 
Yet close to me this Christmas Day ! 



138 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE CHRISTMAS SHOP GIRL 

Centre of all the impatient throng 

That crowds the counter where she stands. 
What care they if her hours be long? 

Hers but to answer their demands. 
All day about her fall and rise 

Importunate voices sharp and shrill. 
What reck they of her tired eyes? 

She only lives to do their will ! 

Yet once the Eastern stars grew bright, 

And from the glory fell to earth 
A song that rang upon the night 

Acclaiming that most holy birth. 
No other Christmas gift they sought 

Who found the stable in the snow, 
Only their faithful hearts they brought 

To Bethlehem's manger long ago. 



OTHER VERSES 139 

Gone is that early Christmas day. 

And in its stead with rush and roar 
A crowd that will not brook delay 

Swirls like a torrent more and more. 
Still is it true, for those who seek, 

The way to Bethlehem may be found ; 
For souls, 'mid turmoil, patient, meek, 

For them the Christmas notes resound. 

O tired of all the season's noise. 

Strident and selfish ; you who stand 
Surrounded with a thousand toys, 

Piled foolishly on either hand ; 
God keep within your heart the strain 

Forever old, forever new, 
For you the angels sing again. 

The gift of gifts is born for you. 



140 A VICAR'S POEMS 



THE HAVEN 

What visions fill the traveller's eye 
As speeds the good ship out to sea ; 

The mountainous billows fall and rise, 
The horizon's ceaseless mystery 

Beckons him on ; and all the while 

The white wake lengthens mile by mile. 

All these he sees ; but clearer far 

Another vision evermore 
He watches where his dear ones are, 

The white wake lengthens to their door. 
To what far port his ship may fare 
This is the haven of his prayer. 



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